The devastation of my newly digested news is trying to drag me down. It's mean, and tempting, and semi-persuasive. But it's nice, I find this silence that empties me just for a second.
I won't be able to see them this weekend, like I've been hoping for in months. And this sadness will go on, and on, every time I hear them or even think of it. I think I'll stay away for a while.
But it's nice, because I have my own silence now. A silence that couldn't hurt a fly. This silence though, it's being broken by... my sister singing Air Supply songs recorded on our voicemail. If you were here with me, you'd laugh too.
And it will always be good.
I won't be able to see them this weekend, like I've been hoping for in months. And this sadness will go on, and on, every time I hear them or even think of it. I think I'll stay away for a while.
But it's nice, because I have my own silence now. A silence that couldn't hurt a fly. This silence though, it's being broken by... my sister singing Air Supply songs recorded on our voicemail. If you were here with me, you'd laugh too.
And it will always be good.
